


Lyrics of the past

by NotPersephone



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bedannibal in Florence, Canon Compliant, F/M, Misha Feels, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 11:09:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11645352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotPersephone/pseuds/NotPersephone
Summary: Unfamiliar sound joins the first, a man singing, Hannibal’s voice. Bedelia stops, perplexed; she has never considered singing as something that Hannibal would want to engage in.





	Lyrics of the past

The light ringing sound fills the apartment as Bedelia opens the front door. She stops and smiles to herself; she has grown fond of the harpsichord, or rather Hannibal’s skill in mastering it. Its music holds unexpected gentleness and makes her reflect on the intimacy of their life together.

She closes the door quietly, not wanting to disturb the melody and is about to join him, when a second, unfamiliar sound joins the first, a man singing, Hannibal’s voice. Bedelia stops, perplexed; she has never considered singing as something that Hannibal would want to engage in. His voice has a pleasant timbre, but is timid and low; a tone of someone who is not used to performing. She listens to the song, but cannot make out the lyrics, suspecting it’s his mother tongue. Hannibal seems to be lost in the deepest rooms of his memory palace, the ones holding the shattered memories of his earliest years. Suddenly the voice hesitates, shakes and stops; it is followed by a clamorous sound of hands sliding off the keys.

“Hannibal?” Bedelia walks and stands behind him. He says nothing, head bowed down. She wonders what demons slipped through the latch of their dungeon and were possessing his heart.

“Is something the matter?” she urges. Hannibal shakes his head like a little boy, still silent. She joins him on the bench, sitting next to him. His hands are clenched tightly, knuckles turning white and his eyes are closed. Bedelia covers his hand with hers, holding it gently until he finally releases his fingers; she can feel his hand shaking. They sit in silence and she waits for his ghosts to find their voice, but they do not want to reveal themselves.

“I did not know you sing,” she says, a gentle encouragement.

“I don’t,” his voice is timid, but he responds to her. She keeps holding his hand, stroking it tenderly and he finally looks at her, his eyes like dark pools of hidden emotions, on brink of spilling in tears.

“I used to sing for my sister, when we were young,” he speaks at last, still gazing at her,” It calmed her when she was upset.” Bedelia nods in acknowledgment, pondering what caused this sudden reminiscing.

“It is her birthday today,” he says as though reading her thoughts, his somber eyes glisten and he looks away. Bedelia does not speak, knowing no words can mend the wound in his heart, bleeding anew. She curls her arms around him and he immediately puts his head on her shoulder, lost in the cold corridors of his mind and craving the warmth of her touch. She holds him, idly stroking his hair and waits for him to speak again.

“I knew all the words of the song,” he murmurs against her skin, “but now, I can’t recall them. I am forgetting,” His voice breaks once more.

“You will not forget your sister, Hannibal,” she keeps holding him, her touch as soothing as her voice. He does not respond and, after a moment, he leaves her embrace in an attempt to compose himself.

“What is the melody?” she asks, but he merely shakes his head again. Bedelia places her hands on the keys and waits patiently, until he covers them with his and softly guides her through the notes. They play together for a minute, then he moves his hands away and Bedelia continues to play on her own.

“And the lyrics?”

“I can’t,” he says stubbornly, but she continues to play.

“I can’t as I don’t speak the language, but you can.”

Finally, he clears his throat and a voice fills the room, reluctant at first, but more confident with each verse. Bedelia enjoys the sound of his native language, hard consonants rolling of his tongue with a melodic ease.

The song comes to an end, the last word leaves Hannibal’s lips and he sighs, in surprise and relief. He closes his eyes again, yet there is no torment on his face this time.

Bedelia observes as he gets lost in the corridors of his mind, suddenly well-lit and welcoming. Her hands rest on the keys as she sits in silence. She can help him tame his demons, but wonders if he will continue to reside in his memories.

Suddenly his hand reaches out and takes hers, squeezing it gently. She turns and meets his eyes, now tender and adoring. He smiles and she knows he does not live in the past any more.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt asked for Hannibal singing for Bedelia and I had to alter it to make it fit the characters. Hope you'll enjoy it as I do.


End file.
